


Four Times No was the Correct Answer (And One Time it Wasn’t)

by SkylandMountain1013



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-I Want to Believe, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 08, Season/Series 09, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylandMountain1013/pseuds/SkylandMountain1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for the Tumblr XFWritingChallenge: Names</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times No was the Correct Answer (And One Time it Wasn’t)

**i.**   _Friends_

She really did intend to go on vacation. 

A long weekend away from computers and conspiracies, meetings and mutants– she has no suits packed, and two decidedly non-work related novels sitting on the seat of her rental car. She’d even told Mulder she’d be (mostly) unreachable for the duration of the trip. 

But of course, as is her life, she finds herself cramped in the back office of a grocery store, on the phone, unexplained events having taken place mere feet from her. 

She’s beginning to think she has a magnet for this crap. 

“… familiars, bloodstones, or hex signs or any of the ritual tableaux associated with the occult, Santeria, Voudoun, Macumba, or any high or low magic?” She knows she’s sounding vaguely disinterested. She should be eating fresh lobster by now. 

“Scully?”

“Yes?”

“Marry me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I was hoping for something a little more helpful.”

The call ends a few moments later, and Scully turns to discuss things with the officer behind her. 

 

**ii.** _Parents_

The stream of well wishers dries up by late evening, and it’s finally just the three of them. Scully is up against the headboard, a throne of pillows surrounding her. The baby lies across her lap on top of the covers. 

Mulder thinks she looks celestial. 

He throws on a pair of boxers from his stash in her dresser and carefully slides into the open spot on the bed. He can’t take his eyes off of William. “He’s perfect, Scully.”

She runs a hand through his hair and sighs. It’s content and sad all at once. “What do we do now?”

He shifts his gaze from their son (that phrase is still completely overwhelming to him) to her. “I don’t know.”

They both know. Tomorrow morning, he will leave. He will leave for the Truth, and for their safety. It will be the most painful thing he will ever do. But he will not let her down again. 

“Let’s go to the courthouse in the morning,” he blurts out. “They open at 8:00-”

Her eyes go wide as she cuts him off. “Mulder, no.” 

“If something happens-” He swallows hard as the weight of the situation starts to collapse on him. “-if something happens to me I want to make sure you and William are provided for.”

“We can’t. You’re supposed to be going underground. Putting your name on a marriage license will just cause them to search harder for you.”

“I don’t  _care_.” His voice is desperate, yet hushed. 

She ends the discussion by kissing him, and they cry themselves into a fitful sleep. 

He deliberately avoids downtown when he drives out in the morning. 

 

**iii.** _Fugitives_

It’s been three weeks of dive motels and meals eaten in the relative safety of the car. She feels like there is an omnipresent layer of dust on her. 

They drive in an erratic pattern, often times doubling back through towns to cover tracks. 

Scully spends every moment she can touching him. If she touches him, she can be sure that he won’t disappear again. If she touches him, the gaping hole in her heart where William was temporarily closes. They haven’t talked about him since their conversation in the prison cell. 

It’s the middle of the night in a dump outside Reno– the bed is creaky and the neon “Vacancy” sign buzzes outside their window. They are naked and sweaty, Mulder on his back with his arm draped over his forehead. Scully is on her side next to him, absently running her fingernails up and down his stomach. 

She wants nothing more than to go before a judge and declare her devotion to this man. To claim him as hers, as if that will prevent anyone from taking him away. She knows the impossibility of that– he is an invisible man, erased from society. They have quiet conversations of what they’ll do when (if) life returns to normal. 

She rolls on top of him and starts kissing her way down his abdomen. 

Tonight, their bodies write silent vows. 

 

**iv.** _Survivors_

Their bungalow is small, but perfect for what they need. Four poster bed, simple kitchenette, and a balcony overlooking the turquoise sea surrounding them. 

Scully is flushed, a combination of sun and one too many mojitos. But she is relaxed, and Mulder can’t help but take pride in finally being the reason for that. It had been a long few months. 

“Let’s stay here. Forever. In the light.”

Mulder smiles. “Eventually we’d run out of money. And food.”

Scully hums in acknowledgement. “And rum.” She grabs his hand from across the table and brings it to her chest. 

“Hey Mulder. Marry me.”

This time, he barks out a laugh. “Dr. Scully, you are drunker than I thought.”

She tries to look wounded, but dissolves into a fit of giggles instead. 

He does know that a tipsy Scully is a truthful Scully, and he’d be lying if the thought didn’t warm his heart. 

She leans over the balcony slightly and grabs a piece of a palm frond from the tree outside. She rolls it into a makeshift circle. 

“See? I even made you a ring.” More giggles. 

Mulder scoops her up and carries her inside.

 

**v.**   _Soulmates_

Theyare sitting on their porch on a warm spring evening. The air is heavy with impending rain, and dragonflies zip in and out of the tall grass in their yard. 

Instead of their usual beers, Mulder has broken out one of their nicer bottles of wine. Scully moves her head from his shoulder long enough to take a sip from the glass beside her. 

“I thought we were saving this for a special occasion?” 

“Twenty years, Scully. You have been putting up with my shit for twenty years. Seemed like as good of a reason as any to celebrate.”

“Well. That is something.” She lifts her glass to his and they silently toast the path that has brought them here. 

Mulder slides closer to her. “So, you seem like a nice young woman. Wanna go steady?” He waggles his eyebrows at her. 

This earns him a sideways glance and a half smile. “I think you’re about 15 years too late there, Spooky.”

His expression gets serious for a split second, then relaxes again. “I’m not sure there’s a reason to anymore– but what do you say about finally making this official? For better or for worse, til death do us part, the fantastic opportunity to hyphenate your name?”

The smile is full on this time, one of those he will catalog in his brain with the other ones he’s earned. 

“Yeah. Let’s.”

For this moment, their world is filled with nothing but love. 


End file.
